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"Tatiana, dear," Manuel's rough voice mocked concerned. He'd glanced towards the milling guests around us. "She’s not feeling well again."
I could feel their sympathetic stares, a low tut. Their judgement.
Because I was always sick––that was the excuse he gave them anyways. When I wasn't allowed out because he'd beaten me so black and blue that I could barely stand.
Today it was because he'd forbidden me to eat for three days, despite the plethora of food in the fridge and cupboards. I was so hungry, I'd almost passed out.
"Here, cariña," his false voice of caring held the undercurrent of warning, "Let me help you to the sofa." His nails, digging into my skin as he pulled me upwards.Get off the floor or you won't walk for a week,it told me.
"Sweetheart, look at me." The sincerity in Knight's voice snapped me back to the present, his fingers running through my hair soothingly.
I met his gaze, remembering, remembering.He'd abandoned me to that man.
There was a clearing of a throat--the cop was still by the doorway, a mixed look of concern and suspicion on her face.
Maya's face hovered over Knight's shoulder. "Do you need something? I have some fresh squeezed orange juice downstairs. I'd made it for her this morning but...." she petered out, unable to finish, her eyes beginning to water again.
A wave of guilt crashed over me as the realization of what I had done set in.Ihad brought this darkness to her doorstep.
Because I now knew with a certainty, thathehad taken Honey.
Thathewas responsible for all this: kidnapping me, the heroin, and the drowning.
I hadn't believed it before because...because I'd killed him.
I'd slashed a knife across his neck and watched him bleed out on the marble tiled floor.
He was--he wassupposedto be dead.
And yet, somehow, he was still alive--the proof right in front of me.
I was paralyzed by the intensity of my emotions: shock, terror, and disbelief washing over me like a wave.
I had done my best, but it hadn't been enough. And now, he'd come back to take his revenge.
But first, he wanted to make me suffer, like he did with all his victims.
It was his favorite pastime--stalking his prey, tormenting them before attacking, making sure they knew he had all the power. He got a thrill out of thinking he was always one step ahead of them.
I had seen firsthand his sadistic pleasure -- reveling in the idea that he was smarter than everyone else around him. It wasn't just about money - though that was part of it - it was about the need for control and domination. And it drove him mad if anyone got the better of him.
He'd once driven his car into a tree, with me inside it, after someone dared to steal from him.
The edges of the paper bird cut into my finger. The bird was a clear sign: he wantedmeback.
His littlepossession. Hispajarita.
And I had no doubt he would kill Honey if I didn't go to him.
Then, using me, he would lure Knight in, torture and kill him, I would remain as his little play thing, once more.
I couldn't let that happen.I'd brought the psychopath here.And, no matter what I did, I could never undo that. But I had to find a way to get Honey back and keep Knight out of this.
"Please." Knight spoke, and I realized I hadn't answered Maya's question. She walked from the room and the folded bird collapsed as I crushed it in my palm.
I had to undo this. To get Honey back. To keep Knight away from the nightmare of my past.
"Tati," Knight's voice lowered now, his concerned gaze meeting mine. I could see the love in them, feel it pour through me, warming the icy shock in my body. "What's wrong?"